there is a lot number on my birth certificate.

(entry way of my "Cuban Family's" home)

True story. In the same genre, my mom and I used to have one tv which made the picture. On top of it? That's right: the tv with the sound. Sometimes we had to hit the bottom one just a little bit. This is a life skill I've taken into my profession.

6 year old: "The stapler is broke again."

me: "Did you try hitting it just a little bit?"

You know what is really comical, though? I used to think I was poor; I really thought that. I thought I was poor because we had thrift store Christmases sometimes. I thought I was poor because I was one of the few kids who had the special free lunch ticket. We lived in a trailer, and when we didn't, we were moving all the time. Didn't get braces. Went to the sliding scale clinic. I thought I was poor. I was poor, and others around me were rich.

Somehow, I reveled in this, starting pretty young. Our minds will do what they can to organize social ambiguity into something seemingly emotionally reliable. Pride. I felt proud not to care I was "poor," to be brave enough to invite my friends from beautiful homes into my little trailer. A humility which was it's own form of arrogance, somehow; I reveled in our differentness.

(happy accident in the ghettoasis)

My identification, my egoic hat if you will, hanging carefully on the hook of the deeper things in life, or so I thought. One more illusory division, or really, a failure to accept the illusory nature of our differences...whether I shop at a thrift store, or you have hair extensions...whether I read Vonnegut, or you read magazines...whether you volunteer your time with children, and I spend my time on myself...We are made of the same stuff. Somehow, I the best description I have for said stuff is: compassion. Peel the onion. Peel it. There is no core; that is a myth. Inside, is emptyness...pure potential...sameness....love.

I didn't always know this. I thought I did. Peel on, another layer. Lose count. The futility of being careful. Shed tear; the stinging, cleansing inevitability.

And then I met Invalvis, one lovely day in Havana. With her, once again, I met my own naivety.

More to come...

p.s. Then, I did not know this. And even knowing it now isn't enough; I feel this internal drive to see it, live amongst it. It just is.

this was acutally legal (promise)

I went to Cuba. I realized it is my first island. I saw lots of 50's American cars.

True to my travel nature, I mostly veered from the group and wondered on my own; this is how I like to travel. I find 99 percent of people a bit too needy to travel with, as I like to go off on my own with little notice, and it can piss others off. It's not you; it's me. On my adventures, I met a wonderful Cuban family. Here I am (I don't love this pic of me, but it's all I have with my friend!) with Inalvis. She is a nurse. 34. Master's degree. Fluent in English. Working on French. Of course, not allowed to leave the country to visit the places in which these languages are relevant. Oppression weighs heavy on my heart during the trip, as I spend time with my friend. I am certain we will meet again, when I return to Cuba; maybe somehow she will someday be able to visit here.

The tourists' view of Havana.

Beautiful, breath-taking "Old Havana."

I went tentative, but kind of thinking I'd gain a greater respect for Marx, Che...Instead, I am in a state of wondering...though an obvious ideal, can systems such as these exist realistically outside of a vacuum? As "lefties," it can be convenient and even hip to love Che; the irony of the commoditization of the famous print of him cannot escape us, of course! Do they have homelessness, abject poverty, a literacy problem?? No, and that is amazing for a developing nation; however, I am in dissonance, especially over who feels like my Cuban sister, for example. ... how we are both educated, professionals, about the same age...but do I believe that she has human rights? Can I place a value on dreams? Aspirations? Is it true what Jeffrey Sachs seems to hint at in his book, The End of Poverty, that there is something ingenious that is inherent in systems like capitalism (obviously not unbridled, multinational, monopolized versions...including corporate dictatorship)...that will lead to innovations which will lead to the end of poverty much more efficiently and realistically than systems of strict government control? I almost can't believe I am saying some of this. Instead of being overwhelmed, I am taking solace in the following quote by Howard Thurman, a mentor of MLK:

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

-Howard Thurman

The one in which she has two comments and a question.

Comment number one: 

Yesterday, we purchased tickets to Amsterdam/Paris.  Yes, Amsterdam & Paris!  Me!  This will be my 2nd international trip; I suspect I love to travel.  There will be much walking, coffee, wine, cheese and pastries. And coffee. And pastries.  And pastries.  In eight weeks, we depart.   Of course, I have to lose 10 pounds before we go so I can gain 10 pounds when we are there, thus breaking even. In sort of a fat way, que sera, sera. 

We're going to Amsterdam first. Basic plan there: Ride a bike, drink a crapload of coffee next to the beautiful canals, soak up old-world charm, experience the canals from a boat ride, somehow try to handle the emotional overload it will be to walk through Anne Frank's secret opening bookcase, to stand in Van Gogh's museum, to be inside Rembrant's room. 

Then, a four hour train ride to Paris. 

Ah, Paris.  We'll be there a little longer.  We are buying a book, 24 Walking Tours of Paris; of the travel books we have reviewed, it seems to capture the essence of "soaking up" a place rather than rushing through an exhausting number of sights.  

Of course, I plan to see some key pieces at the Lourve; more importantly, however, I look forward to seeing up close much of the artwork I have studied in all of my art courses.  The place for this is the Musee D'orsay.   I cannot imagine what that will feel like.  Other than this, yes, I'd like to see the biggies, but I want to soak up the place more than anything.  When I sink into my soul's desires, I find that I'm not as much of a sight seer as a soaker-upper.  Take some pictures.  Read.  Write.  Sip.  Watch.  Soak.

And did you notice the 'we' that I speak of? Yes, B is coming with me!  For something like Europe, of course I would have liked for Bruce to go, given the amount of money in our bank account means we haven't done stuff  like this a lot (once!).  It had appeared we would not have common vacation for a year; luckily,  B was able to work it out. 

As more saavy travelers may already know, it was the SAME price to take B and go during spring break together that it was for me to go in the summer alone. So, if you're thinking of traveling, I am telling you that you can fly into Amsterdam and out of Paris (with a DIRECT flight into DFW, if you are a neighbor!) for under $700. Under $700! 

I am looking forward to sharing my first trip to Europe with Bruce, who lived in France for a little while and who also speaks French! 

As for my little solo travel bug, I will scratch this itch at a later date. I'm thinking of either going to NYC for a weekend and seeing Billy Elliot on Broadway, or to San Francisco, or to Chicago, or somewhere in Florida to watch birds (loser, I know).  I'd really like to go to LA and see Ellen. I love Ellen to pieces; But, I don't know if I want to dance in the crowd without a buddy.  Do you want to go with me?

Comment number two: 

For a few years, I've been eying digital SLR cameras. I've watched them come down in price as I've realized how much I like taking pictures. The camera I've had for years is great, however the shutter speed should be called the shutter ohmygodhowcanyoubesoslow. I love it, though for what it is. I thought I might enjoy taking pictures, and this camera showed me that I was right. Eva at girly-bits.com summarizes my feelings on photography so perfectly here. She's right, for those of us who love the arts but are not, well, fabulous painters or composers or architects, photographer is the great equalizer. It is not too hard to both love the process and also to get some satisfaction out of the product.  Eva, like several of the other bloggers I frequent, is a fabulous photographer. 

Product aside, photography is the consciousness maker. I love the idea of framing every piece of the universe in it's best light, of slowing down and capturing the details of a moment. It beckons presence, which can be slow to manifest in real time. :)

I purchased the Nikon D40. But, now I'm thinking I should switch to the Canon Rebel (the 2008 one).  People seem to think Canons often have better lenses.  Also, the camera itself has the "live view," so one can look through the LCD and not only the view finder.  Mark of a novice to want that, I hear,  but I'm not sure I'm ready to let it go completely.  Right now, I am like a baby deer, trying to figure out what all of the acronyms stand for and how to make things not fuzzy.  I suspect (hope) the learning curve is a steep one.

And a Question: 

I've been knitting.  I like it!  But after I work on a piece, I always feel compelled to unravel it and start over.  It progressed to a premeditated act: "Ooh, I should sit down and knit something and then take it apart."  

Why is that?